Shattering
by Alaylith
Summary: A desperate question, a plea for denial, a prayer that this is all just a bad dream and that it was all a lie, that everything is still alright, that nothing is wrong and – And the world shatters.


Title: Shattering  
Fandom: BBC Sherlock  
Characters: John, Sherlock  
Words: 920  
Warnings: mention of suicide  
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them, otherwise there would already be a dozens more episodes.  
A/N: Nothing really to say, just that it needed to be written. Just a coping mechanism for this year.

And yes, sadly it is based on personal experience.

* * *

John sits on his bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands hanging between his legs. He stares unseeingly at the wall in front of him, his eyes dark.  
His mobile phone lies on the ground between his feet, where it fell from nerveless fingers a while ago.

John feels completely numb. He can hear his own blood rushing through his veins and hears the painful pounding of his heart in his chest.  
He breathes slowly, mechanically, not even realizing how the air enters his lungs. The silence of the room is crushing and overwhelming, on one hand it is too much and on the other it is not enough. There are no thoughts inside his head, not a single word flitters over his mind.

He is just completely numb.

A sound reaches his room and John turns his head slightly to look at the door, his neck protesting painfully against the movement.

Sherlock.  
Sherlock is there.

Suddenly his throat constricts painfully and his chest feels like a stone weighs down on it, his heart hammering. John jumps up, stumbles over his own feet and feels oddly light-headed, but he does not care. All he knows is that he has to get down, has to get to Sherlock, just-  
Not feeling anything and simultaneously feeling too much, John runs to his door and wrenches it open. He rushes down the stairs, almost falling over the last ones and comes to a sudden halt in the door.

Sherlock sits on the coach, his fingers dancing over the keyboard of John's laptop and his eyes focused on the screen. He looks as if there is nothing wrong with the world. A strangled gasp escapes John's mouth and Sherlock looks up immediately. John takes shuddering breathes, just staring at Sherlock and Sherlock studies him for a moment, before he frowns seriously.

"John, what happened?"

Calm and serious, but beneath the words is a layer of concern. He already knows that it is bad.  
And John starts to realize that as well.

"My sister is dead," he says bluntly, tears starting to gather in his eyes and his whole body starts to shake.

"She committed suicide?"

A desperate question, a plea for denial, a prayer that this is all just a bad dream and that it was all a lie, that everything is still alright, that nothing is wrong and –

Through the tears he can see how Sherlock pushes the laptop from his lap and jumps up, a foreign expression on his face. An expression that John can easily recognize and with a sudden awful awareness everything crashes down and John realizes the truth.

And the world shatters.

Deep and painful sobs shake his body, endless tears stream from his eyes as he folds into himself. Warm arms wrap around him and hold him against a warm body. Desperately he clings to that body, his hands fisting into the clothes of his anchor.

No words can describe the pain, the hopelessness and all those other emotions which course through his body. He can almost feel how the world breaks down and nothing remains as it was before. He can feel all those shards cutting into him, the sobs tearing through his body are almost breaking him. Not a single thought is able to be formed inside his head, there are just so many emotions inside him that there is no room left for anything else.

It feels like dying and a part of him really dies.

* * *

He can not tell how much time had passed when he starts to notice the world around him again. He sits on the couch and leans against Sherlock, whose arms are tightly wrapped around him and holding him close. John does not even remember moving. He stopped sobbing and breathes shakily now, his cheeks burning with tears and his body shakes from time to time with the pain echoing in his chest.

"John?" Sherlock asks and John raises his head slowly from his shoulder to look up to him. Sherlock's eyes are dark, compassion and concern so open on his face like never before.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock continues as soon as he is sure that he got John's attention.

His common 'I am fine' is already forming, before John takes a shaky breath and shakes his head. "No," he answers truthfully and looks up to Sherlock helplessly.

Sherlock shakes his head sadly and pushes John's head back against his shoulder. "You know all those standard sayings about how everything will be alright again and that it is okay for you to feel the pain and to release it."

John shudders slightly and tightens his hold on Sherlock's clothes.

"And we both know that at the moment you are unable to believe them, that you think that the world will never be whole again and that the pain will remain for all eternity."

New tears start to gather in John's eyes and as he closes them the tears flow over his cheeks.

"So there is nothing for us to say, we can only remain here and wait."

John swallows thickly and cuddles a little closer to Sherlock, desperately needing the warmth and closeness.

"For how long?" he whispers brokenly and twitches slightly as a hand comes to rest on top of his head and a small kiss is pressed against his forehead.

"For as long as you need me."

And in this shattered world that is all John got and for the moment it is enough.

* * *

_In Loving Memory_

_4__th__ February 2007_

_I hope that you were able to find in death what you were not able to find in life_

_I will always miss and love you, my friend_


End file.
